Apilado
by gilgameshforeternity
Summary: The fire consumes all. Spy/Scout. Rated T, rating may go up. Title may change.
1. Apilado

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters

(A/N) I was really hesitant to post this, because I wasn't sure if I wanted to turn it into one big oneshot or chop it into chapter. So I'm gonna post this first little teaser.

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><p>"Lean into me."<p>

"I am."

"More."

"I'm going to fall!"

"Hush, do as I say."

Scout barely hid the scowl on his face as he tried to follow the taller man's orders. Spy, was being…patient. Gripping the boy's hand and back tightly he felt a considerable shift in weight as the blonde practically fell forward unexpectedly.

"Too much! You are beginning to annoy me," Spy hissed and let go with a step back.

Arms swinging wide Scout yelped as his face and the ground became acquainted in rapid momentum. He spat a few choice words as he clutched his cheek, there was going to be a bruise on his cheek bone in the morning. Watching with disinterest Spy merely waited for his moody partner to stand up.

"You are relying on yourself too much. Apilado is trust; it is giving into your partner and your partner giving into you. We should be equal and even, we become one. Without me you will fall, without you I will fall."

Staring at the Frenchman he rolled his eyes, he was beginning to sound like a preacher. Crossing his arms Scout sneered.

"I did that, you walked away and I fell!"

"Non! You expect me to drag you around ze dance floor like a sack of manure?"

"Hey!"

"That is enough for tonight. Leave, I am done with you."

Scout almost pounced on the man as he was waved away with a hand. Was that frog really implying that he, the King of Boston, was nothing more than mound of shit? Before he could even fly off the handle Spy was out the door of the warehouse, jacket slung on his arm and the scent of nicotine fading away. So maybe he should have paid a little more attention, Spy was taking the time to teach him the basic. Snorting like a dragon Scout grabbed his backpack and bat, leaving the old warehouse for warmer company.

/

BLU had been advancing slowly but surely the day Scout had gotten a bullet through the leg. Scout chalked it up to pure luck, because otherwise how else would that sissy BLU even come close to grazing him?

Panting Scout had his back pressed flush against the concrete building he was using as shelter, the bullet had lodged itself into the meat of his calf. The fucking thing was festering like a bitch. No way would he be able to run, let alone walk the bullet shoving precious muscle and veins to uncomfortable positions. Bloody seeped steadily into his sock and even after calling for the Medic Scout was trying to stand up. He wasn't stupid enough to get caught like a sitting duck. Excruciating pain and pressure emanated from the wound, his sock was an angry red and barely 5 feet away he crumbled to the ground groaning.

Whether the bullet had shattered the bone or not he wasn't sure, just that he was done for if an enemy happened upon him. Bat in his lap and scatter gun in hand Scout feel the sweat soaking his back, and how harsh he was breathing. It wasn't like he hadn't had a bullet lodged in him before, but those were few and far between, he was an expert and evading. Each incident had been a special case, and this one was no different, the Sniper must have fucked lady luck good to catch him so cleanly.

Trying to calm his breathing Scout swiveled his head this way and that. The feeling of blood slipping into his shoe sent a chill creeping under his skin and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Calling out once more he readied his gun, blue eyes held the wild light of an animal back into a corner, Scout was ready to fight tooth and nail for his life. Sure, respawn was always a backup, but the devilish contraption gave him the willies and he avoided it as much as possible. Besides, Medic should go out of his way to heal him, he was their best member in his opinion.

"You look terrible."

Gun pivoting to the right and up Scout witnessed their Spy uncloaking, the hint of a smirk on his goddamn face.

"You don't have a bullet in your leg."

Blue eyes dipped down the body of his teammate, tall, suave and annoying as hell. Stopping at his dripping sock Scout rested his head back against the wall, he was losing blood faster than he thought. Spy wandered closer, peering down at his injured comrade and noted the sweat beading on his brow.

"Ze Sniper?"

"Yup."

"You're getting old."

"Bullshit. He got lucky."

A smirk came and went along Spy's lips at the boy's cockiness. Even with his leg torn up he still had mind to tell anyone and everyone that he was still better than them.

"You know Medic will have to dig ze bullet out before he can heal you."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me captain obvious," Scout growled and wiped a bandaged hand across his forehead.

"If you do live through zis, shall we meet at ze warehouse tonight?"

Scout takes a breath, looking up into the man's eyes and sees something akin to concern, but the Frenchman is starting to blur around the edges and he wipes sweat from his face again.

"So you can yell at me some more?"

"Non, so zat I may laugh at your two left feet," Spy teased lightly.

Scoffing Scout just nodded and fell silent. The pain was lancing up his leg, leg muscles seized as he tried to relax instead of curling around the wound like a child protecting his boo-boo. When he looked up next Spy had disappeared like the ghost he was. Minutes passed in silence and strained winces as the young man tried to keep still.

"Doktor! Leetle Scout is here!"

His savior would be a big man with a big gun.

"Excellent, Herr Heavy."

Rolling his head to see the two men Scout thanked his lucky stars it wasn't the enemy that hadn't imagined them. Heavy jogged past to keep tabs on the security of their position while Medic crouched next to him.

"Ach, Scout, you sloppy little man."

Trademark scowl in place Scout let the man take over. Blood oozed lazily from the wound as Medic went about his job, finally succumbing to the pain and sight of medical instruments digging through his flesh Scout slipped into unconsciousness.


	2. Caricias

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters

(A/N) blatantly self indulging myself here. College has started again, so you guys will have to deal with my short chapters :P

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><p>The sharp sound of metal clattering against metal was the first thing to pierce through his sleep. Florescent lights were the next thing to assault him and Scout groaned, turning over onto his side, trying to shield his oh so delicate eyes. When his vision cleared the Bostonian recognized the shiny metal table he was laid out on, sitting up quickly his eyes frantically searched the room.<p>

"Velcome back Herr Scout."

His eyes pinned Medic with a stern gaze, "The battle, did I-"

"You vere unconscious, Heavy carried you back here. You're lucky Spy told us when he did."

Medic floated around the room, a clipboard in hand, going about his business as if Scout wasn't currently devastated he had missed the rest of the match. Hoping off the tablet he flexed his muscles, dully noting the ache in his cheek bone from the night before still nagged at his face. Snatching his bag and weapons from the floor, Scout left without a thank you.

Hitting the showers meant washing in complete silence, the doctor had fixed his calf good as new, no scar to remind him of BLU Sniper's lucky shot. He ate left overs alone, it was a wonder how not a one of his boisterous teammates had crossed paths with him yet. With their absence he could barely bring himself to care, he had more important matters to attend to and being a social butterfly was at the bottom of his list. Sprinting to the warehouse Scout entered to the sight of Spy smoking, sitting on top of a crate waiting.

"Ah, look who decided to show 'is face."

"Don't gimmie that. Medic said I fai-"

"Oui, I know. Ze battle is done, zis is about you and me."

The air was thick with the smell of Spy's cigarettes and Scout wondered just how many the man had gone through. Crushing the stick and Spy walked out to the space they had established as their dance floor, cleared of crates and other forgotten equipment. Tossing his hat and dog tags next to Spy's jacket and gloves, Scout joined the man.

"Now, Apilado, we must lean into each other and feel the strength of our partner."

Scout resists the urge to roll his eyes, it's not like he hasn't heard this before, sometimes he gets it right, most times he ends up with sore muscles from being too tense. Spy took the boy's left hand and slipoed the right around his side. He kept them in an open embrace for a moment, looking over Scout's posture. His shoulders were up and proud -even for being in the woman's position- his chest strong and his feet staggered slightly.

"Good, now, together," he stressed, "we lean forward."

Scout listened to the subtle cues of Spy's body, the hand on his back sliding, the look in his partner's eye and he leaned forward slowly. The moment their chests touch Scout leaned in just a little more, feeling his partner do the same to compensate and he relaxed. Breathing in he could smell everything that seemed to make up Spy. He'd grown accustomed to the man's unique scent and he resisted the urge to bury his nose into the man's shirt and breath deep.

"Perfect," Spy whispered. He could feel Scout exhale, feel the young man relax into him and he murmured softly into the boy's ear, because loud words would only ruin the moment. "Now, just as I taught you, on the 8 count."

Spy's voice was like honey, the accent achingly sweet and Scout savored it, let it roll around in his mind and stick his thoughts into an incoherent jumble.

"Ready, slow, slow, quick, quick, slow."

Scout felt the man move, felt his entire being press against him and he slid back. Spy quickly followed, this branch of Tango called for the partners to hold Apilado for the majority of the dance and before Scout realized it they were across the room and he was still holding against the Frenchman.

"I-we did it!"

A smile beamed onto his face and he made to pull away, he wanted to raise his hands and cheer, but Spy held strong.

"Do not get so excited, we must do it again."

Spy counted, each word mumbled so close and intimately Scout found himself closing his eyes and drinking in the man's pleasing voice. Like any other epiphany, Scout realized that without them both working together, the dance would fall apart and there would be no close embrace, no trust and certainly no Apilado. By their sixth time perfecting the move Spy stopped completely and stood a little straighter. Jarred from the familiar movement, Scout secretly denied he had, had his eyes closed like some school age girl dancing with her crush.

"Now that you can be lead, it is time you lead."

Scout swallowed thickly, Spy was taller than him, not by much, but it was intimidating to say the least. Switching hands he breathed in, Spy had been leading, why couldn't he?

"Remember, left foot first. When you step forward, let the foot in the back stay as long as the music will allow."

"We don't have music."

"Oui, not yet."

Gently pushing forward he felt the Frenchman respond with practiced ease and felt his ego grow a little, the man was following his commands now. Slinking back Spy allowed his teammate to take control, feeling the shift in their roles become solid. Sliding across the floor a few times, Spy whispered the counts into Scout's ear softly, if the words had been anything other than professional, an outsider might've mistaken them for lovers speaking intimately. Scout resisted the urge to press his face closer, tried not to slip into the surreal lull of having someone else pressed so close, but his eyes were already closed and again he bumped into Spy's unmoving chest, reality was a cruel mistress.

"You are improving, zis is good. We will move on then."

Letting go Spy stepped back, smoothing his shirt as if their proximity had caused a thousand invisible creases, he gestured for Scout to move away.

"Maybe one day you will learn enough and take one of those ah...planchadoras from their lonely seats and impress them, oui?"

"P-plancha-wattas?"

"Ah, 'ow you say... shy girls, ze inexperienced girls that will go chasing after you."

Scout felt the unmistakable heat of embarrassment crawl up his neck. He doubted his flaky skill in Tango would be enough to catch a girl, if he was evening look. Spy imitated the beginning position and looked to Scout.

"Now, ze Promenade. Left foot extended out."

He tried to pay attention, truly he did, but he was too busy drinking in the man before him and he was one _tall_ glass of water. His long fluid lines were precise and beautiful, but they were nothing compared to his masked countenance. Expressive eyes, strong jaw and-

"Scout!"

Shoulders hunching up the young man looked to his teacher.

"Did you hear a word I said?"

"Uh...no."

Spy narrowed his eyes, Scout was losing his focus, quicker than normal.

"Either you pay attention, or you look like a fool when you try."

"Oh come on, you're exaggerating, all we've been doing is walking around."

"Walking around! You obviously have no appreciation for the finer points of ballroom. You are acting like an uneducated, unrefin-"

"Hey shut it! Jus' cause I don't walk around in prissy suits 'nd have an accent doesn't mean I'm stupid. You're acting real high and mighty for someone who hides like a bitch in battle. If you even tried to handle my job-"

Scout was still fuming when Spy practically stomped over, a look of annoyance and impatience in his eyes that threatened to materialize into a thousand balisongs and stab him repeatedly. He grabbed the boy's wrist, yanked him against his chest and took the dominant position. The feeling of being dragged snapped his mind to attention and Scout wanted to yell and scream at the man for even touching him after the insults. He was dipped over the man's leg suddenly, the hand behind his back supporting his weight and chills slithered under his skin as a warm hand slid its way up his chest.

"You are not stupid, you merely misunderstand the meaning of what this dance is. This dance is fire, passion," Spy whispered near Scout's jaw, "it is entregarme, to give oneself up to the leader's lead."

The hand was pure heat, burning through his shirt and up his neck. Nicotine and cologne invaded his senses, the contact of skin so sensual and forbidden he gripped tighter to his partner. Goosebumps rose on his flesh as Spy's lips whispered around his jaw.

"You must surrender yourself to me."

A shaky breath passed through his lips and the world was suddenly righted as Spy whisked him away. He had never seen such a fiery look in the man's eyes, or felt the all encompassing power as Spy lead him through the basic walk and unexpected swivels that had him almost sweating to keep up. The technique was precise and executed quickly before flowing into another trick. His heart raced, all their practicing was flashing in his mind as he tried to anticipate his partner's moves, what he hadn't expected, was the hand that hooked under his knee and lifted his leg. Scout almost punched the man in the face, his anger still a flickering flame in the back of his mind.

"Caricias," Spy explained, voice husky between their close faces, "a gentle stroking with the leg or shoe against some part of the partner's body."

With their hips pressed together tightly Spy egged his partner on, a smile of amusement on his lips at Scout's agitated state. Stepping forward into his partner, shifting their weight Spy felt his teammate's leg hook around his waist. The intimate nature of the caress wasn't the only challenge Scout had seen fit to man up to, the amount of contact between them was more than they had ever come close to before. He followed the way Spy's hand pushed down on his knee, he gave in to letting the leg drag down his partner's, let the pounding in his chest become a tempo and he almost leaned forward and up into the man's lips. With the men invading each others space, the air temperature had risen, melted into cautious passion and Scout realized that they had stopped moving.

He was still flush against Spy when the voice in the back of his mind spoke up, warning that if he didn't get away now, something bad was going to happen, something he would probably regret. Clearing his throat Scout looked away, feeling the moment break into a million awkward pieces as he retrieved his limbs from around the Frenchman.

"We will continue this at another time. I 'ave business to attend to tomorrow."

"Business," Scout questioned, watching the man move away to grab is belongings.

"Yes, business. Au revoir. Be sure to practice while I am away."

The air in the warehouse seemed cold, ominous, as the Frenchman left and Scout was alone once again. His body painfully cold and his chest tight with something he wasn't ready to admit to yet.


End file.
